


Silver Spoons and Crimson Moons

by toomuchgawking



Series: Sizable Scars Verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchgawking/pseuds/toomuchgawking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Santana might be perfect for each other. But no one wants them to be. David's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Spoons and Crimson Moons

The thing about being friends with Wes is that he focuses on all these weird preconceived notions. Maybe part of it was due to the freak strain on the flu that took out half the Warblers and ruined their chances of winning their Sectional the previous year, but he kept talking about how this year's competition was a new start; a chance for the Warblers to be great again. Thad ignored him, as usual, Blaine went along with it, Kurt rolled his eyes like it was Olympic sport and David… Well he was just there. Because he'd been Wes' roommate for three and a half years, and his best friend for about the same amount of time, and no matter how exasperated they got with each other they stuck together. So when Wes did things like decide he needed to give the Warblers a stirring pre-performance speech, David ignored it. Even if he ignored most of the things the other boy said.

The performance went well, even if Kurt spent most of it staring at one particular section of the audience where David suspected New Directions were seated. He just hoped Wes didn't decide it was inappropriate behaviour. Thankfully, though, Wes seemed too pleased with how the numbers had gone to nitpick (at least yet). They hovered awkwardly backstage, waiting to be told where they should go. Wes was busy talking intently to Thad, who looked decidedly uninterested. Suddenly a group of girls in grey and white dresses and boys in maroon shirts descended into the backstage area and from the way one girl squealed and ran towards Kurt David figured they were the kid's old glee club. He'd been attempting to ask Blaine if he knew where they were supposed to go but he was pushed out of the way by the reunion happening in front of him. He ended up standing next to a black haired girl who was watching the gibbering threesome like they were her own personal entertainment. Nothing seemed to be happening in terms of getting the choirs to their proper places, so he decided to introduce himself and held his hand out.

"Hi, I'm David." She looked him up and down, with an appraising look on her face and he couldn't help raising his eyebrows when she ignored his hand.

"Santana." Then she turned back to Blaine, Kurt, and the other girl, and made the obligatory gay joke, so of course David responded with the obligatory 'not all of us like guys' reply. She was blatantly disbelieving, apparently irritating Kurt, who turned a sharp, disapproving glare on her.

"He has a girlfriend, Santana. Just because you think things doesn't make them true." She turned to study David, and even though he's heard the Canada joke about a million times it was hard not to laugh when Blaine (who hasn't been offended by any boy's school jokes since the end of Sophomore year) was staring at her like she'd said she enjoyed stealing the possessions of little old ladies.

However before anything else could happen Wes interrupted from the other side of the room. "Warblers, we need to head up to the audience now, otherwise we'll miss seeing New Directions perform." Of course he was standing stoically by the doorway to make sure everyone left.

"He's wound tight," came flatly from beside him, and he couldn't help chuckling.

"Maybe he's repressed," he said, because it seemed like the kind of thing she'd enjoy, and then "Nice to meet you, Santana," because it was, before he followed the other Warblers out of backstage.

Kurt apparently led the way, since the ended up sitting around his old choir director as the waited for the rival choir to perform. David was surprised when a picture perfect blonde couple emerged from the back of the auditorium, but he heard Kurt snort and whisper "Of course they do that again." The song was… nice. David couldn't really come up with any other words to describe it. He supposed it was good, but he couldn't really bring himself to be particularly interested. Beside him Wes was looking distinctly superior. Then their second song began and David grinned as he recognised Santana centre stage. He felt Wes tense a little beside him when she started singing, and then further when another blonde girl and a tall Asian guy started dancing in a way that David knew none of the Warblers could.

But then he couldn't have been paying less attention to the dancers; he was focussed on the singer. The song was fun and sassy and it suited her. She definitely wasn't lacking in confidence. He could have sworn she glanced in his direction several times, but he reasoned she was probably looking for Kurt. He didn't take in the last song because he was still watching Santana, who had returned to the chorus looking smug. After the set he got distracted by Wes, who was trying to calculate their chances of victory out loud at about a mile a minute. Thad and he manage to corral the nervous and slightly unruly Warblers into their place on the stage after the judging. Wes, who looked stressed and pale, turned to David as the guy who was going to announce the winners made his way onto the stage.

"Well we made it here, we performed well, so I guess we've already done better than last year, huh?" David just grinned and bumped the other boy lightly, earning a rare relaxed smiled. Then the guy with the envelope moved up to the microphone and everyone onstage tensed. When the Hipsters were announced as third David felt this weird dichotomy, of excitement at the possibility of winning, and stress about the tension and waiting. Then the tie was announced and everyone was just confused.

Blaine pulled himself together the fasted, walking resolutely over to the New Direction's Director and shaking his hand. Wes reined himself in fairly quickly, but was practically buzzing with indignation the whole way to the green room, where David decides that, fuck it, celebrating with the Warblers was already going to be super awkward because of the tie, why not add some fun? So with that he climbed on a chair to invite the other choir. Wes have him a 'we need to talk' look, but Blaine looked approving, Kurt looked ecstatic, and Santana… was staring at him with her arms folded and half a smile on her face. So he figured it was worth whatever flack he'd catch from his roommate.

Wes was silent on the way to the diner, but as they walked in David managed to draw him into a discussion about the winter rehearsal schedule. He sat down opposite Santana, smiling in her general direction before protesting that in the case of a snow in no one would actually be able to focus on their parts. Then the mo-hawked guy to Santana's left spoke out, fuelling Wes' superiority complex. When Santana joins the conversation and it Wes apparently couldn't take it anymore, and he turned to talk to talk to Thad with an unusual amount of enthusiasm. David restrained himself from rolling his eyes and turned to the girl opposite him.

David didn't really meet that many girls. Sure, there was his girlfriend, who went to the Catholic Girl's school an hour away from Westerville, who he saw every other weekend even though she complained about his parents house being in Lima every time she came to him), and occasionally Dalton held 'mixers', but David usually ended up sticking with Wes, watching Blaine make his way through the girls, who always look appropriately charmed when he left. So talking to Santana was kind of a unique expression.

She was also different from most girls he'd met previously, because when she leant towards him over the table, stared intently into his eyes, and said "I can deal with anything," he actually believed her.

All he said, though, was "I'm sure you can." He couldn't help grinning at her though, and vaguely wondered if he was coming across like an idiot, but she was smiling a little as she leant back into her chair.

"So, what, do you guys not have a costume budget or something?" He chuckled and pulled back a little, so he wasn't leaning quite so weirdly far across the table.

"We're supposed to wear uniforms whenever we're representing the school. Since we're not a sports team, so we don't have a prescribed one, we're stuck with our everyday wear." He straightened his blazer. "Why, do you not think we look dashing?" She snorted, and he chuckled.

"Dashing isn't quite how _I'd_ put it. Do you really think it's the best choice of words?" She had her arms crossed, and was giving him an appraising look. He couldn't help pouting a little in response.

"You don't like them?" then he automatically turned to his right to whine. "Wes, she doesn't like them." Wes, obviously at least pretending not to know what they were talking about, just gave him a flat look. David shook himself. "Oh, right, Santana, this is Wes. Wes, this is Santana. She doesn't like our uniforms." He was used to Wes having at least a little bit of a sense of humour, but it had apparently been misplaced, because Wes just gave Santana a searching look.

"I guess there's no accounting for taste," was all he said, before turning back to Thad, who has struck up a rather enthusiastic conversation with one of the guys on the other side in the interim. Santana was looking decidedly unimpressed, so he shrugged and gave an apologetic look. She just raised her eyebrows.

"I'm well aware that not everyone is sunshine and happiness." David barked out a surprised laugh. "I _do_ go to public school." He nodded solemnly.

"You poor, underprivileged child." She laughed outright, and flipped him off. The food arrived, and they both ignored the weird looks that their respective glee clubs were giving them, and David was kind of enchanted. Because Santana wasn't just pretty, she was smart, and self-deprecating, and she didn't back down. So, yeah, he invited her whole glee club to his house that weekend. She was the only one he actually wanted to come. And if a little part of him was telling him he'd never looked at his girlfriend that same way, he ignored it.

* * *

Wes gave him the silent treatment for about half a day before cracking.

"I just don't think you should have spent so much time talking to her, David," he said, disdain colouring his voice. "You _do_ have a girlfriend." David rolled his eyes, and ignored all the parts of his stomach that felt guilty.

"I'm not going to cheat on Katrina, Wes. Talking does not equal sex. Which is good because otherwise I'd now have to jump _your_ bones." Wes snorted, before remembering that he was supposed to be annoyed.

"Then why did you invite her to the party on Saturday?" David groaned.

"I invited the whole club. They seem cool; I want to get to know them more." Wes folded his arms, and gave him a flat look.

"You _invited_ them. You _meant_ her." David didn't answer and they finished the walk to Advanced Calculus in silence, while David tried to figure out when Wes started sounding so much like his conscience.

* * *

The guilt unfortunately came to a head when David took Katrina out for lunch on the day of the party. They go to the restaurant where they met, when David's parents had held a charity luncheon and her family came. He dressed carefully, because they'd gone out there before, and god forbid he show up without first shining his shoes, or something, because Katrina will notice. She showed up in a perfectly pressed dress, clean woollen stocking, and a spotless cardigan, looking completely at home in her incredibly fancy surroundings. He kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled, and he led her to their table. They talked about a lot of things, his marks, her perfect score on her last World History test, his decision to refrain from trying out for the soccer team this year, her opinion that cheerleading was a futile and pointless operation. Eventually Warblers came up and she asked how Sectionals went.

"We tied with the McKinley team. I invited them to tonight, so maybe you'll meet them." She smiled and flipped her ash blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Cool, what are they like?" David's common sense must have departed in that moment because his reply was not the smartest thing he'd ever said.

"I really just talked to this girl, Santana. I invited the whole club but I told her if she came you'd be able to convince her I was straight." Katrina's eyes narrowed slightly and the corners of her mouth quirked down.

"And _why_ would you feel the need to convince her that you're straight." She folded her arms sharply and he gaped for a moment.

"Uh, she just made a joke about going to an all boys school and I made a joke back." She sniffed, nostrils flaring out widely, and he fell silent.

"So you want me to meet her so you can keep flirting with her?" He blinked, feeling blindsided even as he realised he probably should've seen this coming.

"No, nothing like that," but before he could attempt to explain she stood up, swinging her tiny handbag onto her shoulder.

"I need to think about this." And then she trotted out of the restaurant, head held high, leaving him with the remains of the cheesecake they'd been sharing. So he paid and drove home, where most of the party was already set up.

Three hours later she knocked on his door.

"Tell me what you did wrong." She didn't even say hello, and, completely blindsided by the question, he said he didn't know, even though he's pretty sure he could come up with it if he thought about it. Maybe he didn't feel bad about it. At least not yet. But she just nodded and said, slowly, "I'm breaking up with you."

"What?" She was already most of the way to her car and he was too surprised to go after her. So her watched her drive off and then he closed the door and walked into the downstairs lounge and sat on the couch. He sat there until Wes knocked, politely, and then barged in without waiting to be invited anyway, just like he always did. David called out to him but he didn't stand up, instead he waited for his friend to come find him. Wes walked in an regarded him with a raised eyebrow for a long moment before walking over and sitting beside him.

"What happened?"

"Kat broke up with me." And then came the thing that made Wes a really awesome friend. Because no matter how superior and verbose he acted most of the time, and no matter how many times he'd told David not to do something, when something actually happened, whether it was caused by David screwing up or something else, he didn't say much of anything. Instead he briefly slung his arm around David's shoulders, made a round of the house to make sure everything was set up, and quietly let Blaine and Kurt know what had happened in the foyer where David couldn't hear them. Then, of course, he gained the slightly irritating habit of following David around the house whenever he moved. So, after getting a beer, David decided sitting in the same spot on the couch was the best idea for minimizing irritation.

Which is how Santana found him. She was wearing tight jeans and a halter top and she turned more than a few heads as she walked across the room towards the couch. He could tell that Wes was disapproving but the other boy didn't intervene to stop him doing anything, and frankly getting Santana a drink and dancing seemed like a better plan than moping all night. He didn't know quite why she wanted to dance with him; she'd _seen_ the Warblers performing at Sectionals. Part of him expected her to abandon him for one of the many other boys at the party who could dance better than him, and were dancing in more party appropriate ways, but despite several of them trying to cut in she kept letting him spin her amateurly around in circles. He was aware that Wes was still following him, if slightly obtrusively than before. They danced for what seemed like hours, Santana drank a bit, though David didn't. When she asked if there as somewhere she could get some air he led her out to the back porch, and they sat down on the edge. They were silent for several long moments. Santana's body was facing him but she'd turned her head to face out towards the garden with her eyes closed. She was smiling slightly and her hair was moving softly in the breeze. She opened her eyes and looked at him, still smiling.

"So tell me about your ex." He raised an eyebrow.

"Uh. Her name is Kat. She's a Junior at St. Mary's. I met her at a charity luncheon-" he was interrupted by her snort, and he gave her a confused glance. "What?"

"A charity luncheon? Was your relationship as pretentious as you're making it sound?" She laughed throughout the questions, but when she noticed his lack of amusement she managed to stop, taking a few moments to compose herself. "Sorry. Do you have a picture?" He blinked at her for several long moments, before pulling out his wallet and handing her the photo of him and Katrina from his mom's fortieth that summer. She studied it, nodding slowly. "What a striking couple. Very nice." She handed it back. "Want my advice?" He shrugged.

"Sure." She sniffed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Rip it up." He snorted. "I'm serious, rich boy. You keep carrying it around in your pocket, it's like carrying around all the memories and the possibility that you'll get back together. And that hope, which is quite possibly false, is going to keep you from moving on because as long as you entertain the possibility you'll choose the familiar, even if she never comes back." Despite the fact that he knew that Santana wasn't exactly sober, what she was saying made a surprising amount of sense to David. So he took a deep breath, looked down at the photo in his hands, and very deliberately ripped it down the middle, separating the two figures permanently. He let out the breath slowly, replaying Kat driving away that afternoon in his head, and staring at the two pieces in his hand, before ripping both in half once more. Santana smiled at him and said "Good," then leaned forward and kissed him. Even though they'd just been talking about his ex, who had just broken up with him that day, he couldn't help kissing back. Her lips were warm and sure over his, she tasted like wine coolers, her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. Then her fingers touched his knee and seemed to burn a hole through his jeans as they trailed up his thigh and he realised that this was a really bad idea. He pulled her hand away, trying to ignore how smooth and warm it felt in his, and pulled away. The air was cold against his lips and he swallowed, ignoring the part of him that was begging for him to lean back in and kiss her again.

"I shouldn't have done that." Her cheeks were a little flushed, which could have been alcohol or cold, but kind of looked like embarrassment. She pulled her hand from his and assumed a haughty expression. " _I_ kissed _you_ , rich boy." He touched her arm as she started to get up, and hoped he could find the right words to stop her leaving.

"That's not what I meant." Her face was so unimpressed he couldn't help smiling as he tried to explain that it was definitely nothing to do with her that was making him not want to kiss her. And of course she made a dirty joke out of it and of _course_ Wes interrupted before they could do anything else. Santana's 'friend' turned out to be Mohawk guy, who was indeed missing his shirt and grinning widely, with dilated pupils. He held out a hand and introduced himself as Puck before spending the entire wait for the taxi boasting about football. Wes stood in doorway between the foyer and the rest of the house with his arms folded, while Puck, Santana and David stood in an awkward triangle listening to Puck talk. When the taxi pulled in Santana kissed him on the cheek before walking off. As David watched the pair stroll down the driveway Puck slung an arm around Santana's shoulders. David stayed until they got into the taxi, then turned to go back into the main house. Wes was still staring after the pair with a cold look on his face.

"Can we leave it for now? It's a party lets just try and have some fun." Wes gazed at him for a long moment before nodding and following David back into the house.

* * *

When David woke up late the next day Wes was waiting in his kitchen with coffee. He'd helped pack up after parties at David's since Freshman year but David knew that today was going to double as a discussion of the choices he was making. And Wes wasn't the type to mix words. David mentally cursed the tradition.

"What were you thinking kissing a girl the same day you'd been broken up with?" David winced into his mug, and forced himself to set it down slowly and breathe before saying anything.

"I was thinking I'm a stupid teenage boy who was a little bit upset, so when a really nice, attractive girl kissed me I didn't stop her right away?" Wes looked more confused than annoyed.

"Where exactly do you think it's going to go with her, David? You saw the kind of people she hangs out with." David snorted into the apple he'd just bitten.

"Careful, Wes, you're snobbery is showing." Wes flushed and looked down for a moment before renewing his attack.

"Would you really want to bring a girl like her to one of your parent's events?" David rolled his eyes.

"Shit, Wes, you can't even say her name? And to answer your question, yes, I would. I would maybe ask her to tone down the sex jokes, but I find her charming. Now," he pushed away from the table fully aware his friend wouldn't just back off, "let's get this place cleaned up."

* * *

He managed to get Wes to back off enough for him to text her on Monday afternoon. He had two frees after lunch and made a split second decision to drive to Lima and take her out for coffee. When she texted back accepting to offer it was a surprising relief. He arrived in Lima fifteen minutes before she'd said she was due out, and played with the idea of going inside to find her but decided to wait by his car. He fiddled with his phone. It seemed like forever but had actually only been ten minutes when he saw the front doors of the school open. But it wasn't Santana; it was the tall Asian dancer and Puck. The latte, upon spotting him, broke off and jogged over to David's car.

"Hey. David, right? I broke your chair." David nodded slowly.

"Uh, yeah you did." Puck grinned.

"Sorry, man. So what are you doing around here?"

"Waiting for Santana, actually." Puck snorted. David blinked.

"Seriously? Dude, can I ask what you're expecting?" David couldn't remember a time when he had been more confused.

"Uh. I don't know." Puck smirked at him.

"Well I'm kind of feeling you want to date Santana. And let me tell you, man, I have been there." David thought about the way Puck had wrapped his arm around Santana's shoulders when they'd left the party.

"You have?" He mentally slapped himself for asking such an inane question.

"Yeah. And all I can say is that relationship with her has only improved since we broke up. I mean, why pay for what you can get for free, right?" David blinked, letting then sink in for a moment. Puck laughed. "Didn't think about that, did you? Are you sure you're her type?" David was dimly aware of Puck saying he had to go and jogging off, but he was too busy thinking about what the guy had said and watching Santana walk towards him. She was walking with a little more swing in her hips than she normally had, and the strips of her strips of her cheerleading skirt swayed enticingly around her legs. And all he could think about was the guys who saw that everyday. Then she reached him and the conversation was so refreshing, and straight, and _Santana_ , that he couldn't help relaxing. He opened the door of his car for her, and she smiled a little, and even though there was still a steady churning in his stomach he felt better.

Which all kind of went to shit when she brought the conversation up again. And it was weird trying to verbalise because it honestly wasn't that he hadn't expected her to have a history, it was more that he hadn't expected it to be thrown in his face so quickly. And he _was_ jealous of Puck, and he did wish he'd gotten there first. Because Puck didn't really seem like he'd be a good boyfriend, and the way Santana had smiled when he'd opened his car door for her like it was something unexpected seemed to support that theory. And when she said "I'm sure you'll find some way to level the playing field," and smiled like they were sharing a secret, even though it did ease the churning in his stomach, it didn't really make any of that go away.

* * *

He pushed all his doubts away and stayed in near constant contact with Santana for the next week. Whether she said things like ' _I don't care what Coach Sylvester says, a cheerleading routine involving pyrotechnics is WAY harder than performing a liver transplant in rural Mexico_ ', or ' _Schue keeps talking about speaking through melody. I'm pretty sure Artie's just started listing Eminem songs. Point; he missed it_ ', or, more rarely, ' _I miss Hummel. We're studying Thelma and Louise and he always had the most amazing reactions when Ms. Hoggart started talking about phallic symbolism_ ' she always seemed to make him feel _better_. The following Monday a large part of him wanted to drive out to Lima again but his English class that morning made it clear he'd be spending his afternoon in the library. He'd been there for about two hours when his phone buzzed. He checked, hoping more than a little bit that he'd see Santana's name on he screen, only to be greeted by a number that he didn't recognise. He cancelled the call and slid the device back into his pocket. Only to have it buzz again with the same number. The third time they called he exited the library and answered. On the other end was a no nonsense female voice.

"Good afternoon. Would I be correct in assuming this is David of the Dalton Academy Warblers?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Irrelevant. I understand you have recently chose to undertake a clandestine relationship with on Santana Lopez, of New Directions?"

"Sure."

"I would like to advise you that pursuing said relationship is a terrible idea. Santana, though aesthetically pleasing and moderately talented, is simply not the type of girl you should be interested in." David scowled into the phone.

"In your opinion." The voice sounded smug.

"In the opinion of _many_ people. Were you in possession of the knowledge that Santana has carried on a sexually based relationship with one Noah Puckerman for more than a year?"

"Actually, I did know that, and I'm sure she'd appreciate the past tense due to the fact that the relationship is now over."

"Were you aware that she has carried on a similar arrangement with close friend, and fellow Cheerio, Brittany S. Pierce?"

"The blonde dancer? Look, who is this?"

"Does it really matter who I am? I just thought it was information that you would find both relevant and interesting." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "I have to go," and the call was shut off before he could say anything. He stared at the phone for several long moments before trying to call back. It rang twice before the call was cancelled. The second time the call went straight to he voicemail of Rachel Berry. He didn't leave a message, just ended the call and went back to the library.

He was kind of sick of hearing about Santana's sexual exploits. Maybe people thought it was his business, but he'd thought a relationship with Santana was a relationship with _Santana_ , not Santana and all the people she'd ever slept with. And he didn't want to be just another person on the list of people she'd dated briefly and had sex with for a long time. Because when he liked girls he _liked_ them, and then he felt weird for thinking about liking a girl when he'd only been single for just over a week. So overall he was just confused.

It didn't improve when Blaine visited the library to get a book for his World Cultures class and mentioned Wes going to Lima. Because David can only think of one reason that the other boy would drive all the way down there.

* * *

He waited until after class the next day to confront Wes. They were sitting in their room and David couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I heard you went down to Lima yesterday." Wes sighed, and turned his chair around at his desk so he could face David.

"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret from you." He didn't reply. "It was for your own good, David."

"Really." Wes glanced down looking slightly apologetic.

"You haven't been thinking about your future, David. You graduate this year and you know the kind of schools you can get into. This is hardly the time to start dating a younger girl from a shitty public school." David stared at his hands, folded securely in his lap.

"Because everything's about my future, right? Nothing can be about right now." Wes sighed heavily again, as if it was paining him to have the conversation.

"I just don't think she'd the kind of girl you should be associating with at this stage of your life." He kept talking before David could argue. "I'm not just talking about her questionable sex life. The _president_ of the Celibacy Club at her school ended up pregnant last year. And I did a little digging, and Santana herself had breast enlargement surgery over the summer." David looked up at Wes and folded his arms.

"So you decided to tell me this because _you_ think I shouldn't go after her?" David wasn't sure why he was being so defensive, or why he kept asking questions when he really wanted everything to stop.

"Do you actually think it would last?" David let a breath out slowly and leaned his head back, closing his eyes,.

"I'll think about what you've said. But I'll make my own decision. Can we leave it there?" Wes stared at him for a long moment.

"Alright."

* * *

"David did think about what Wes said. Eventually he stopped texting Santana, stopped talking except when spoken to directly, and focused on trying to work out the snarls of feelings hovering in his solar plexus. Which worked a little, up until _she_ texted _him_ after three days of isolation. And that was when David remembered the stupid end of term party that he'd promised to host. And because he hadn't made a decision either way he invited Santana. Partly because he didn't think it was fair to completely cut her off without explanation when he still could want to know her. Want her.

That Saturday he spent the first hour and a half of the party in a state of near panic before pulling Kurt off of a remarkably happy looking Blaine's lap and dragged him into one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor.

"I wanted to ask you about-"

"Santana? I'm surprised you didn't come to me earlier." David sat on the end of the bed heavily.

"I like to make my own judgements about people." Kurt nodded.

"That's fair. What changed this time?"

"I've just had so many people go out of their way to talk about her, and I'm not sure what I should believe. I mean when someone you don't even know decides to give you an anonymous call about a girl you know having sex with her best friend, it must be pretty important to them, you know?" He pressed his palms against his forehead hard for a moment, before resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands.

"An anonymous call?" David didn't reply, and eventually Kurt continued. "Well there isn't a lot I can say. We were never exactly bosom buddies. If you ask her I'm sure she'll tell you what you want to know." Which David already knew since she had the first time. He just wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Just… be careful though. I mean, Santana's great, but you don't exactly know where she'd _been_."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?" David mumbled into his hands. When he heard someone start to walk in he sat up, dropping his hands to his lap, but when he saw Santana in the doorway looking flawless and angry he dropped his eyes and let them stay there. He didn't know what she said to make Kurt leave, but when he realised they were alone he couldn't help saying what he'd been thinking about all week. And when she asked for his theories he just started babbling and he was saying terrible things but he couldn't help suspecting them. And he's cursing Puck, and Wes, and Rachel fucking Berry for making him doubt the girl, who was looking increasingly upset, but he couldn't stop himself. And when he said "I'm not just here for your amusement," he heard her inhale sharply and he immediately regretted it.

He forced himself to listen when she talked because he'd been listening to everyone but her, and even if he was tired of it, she deserved to be heard. But he couldn't even tell if what she was saying would make a difference because in those moments everything just felt terrible.

When she left it took him a minute to follow and then someone else had gotten to her first. So he just stood outside the room listening. But it all got too much, and she was talking about menopause and he started back towards the room he'd spoken to Kurt in but didn't quite make it there before he had to lean against the wall, and once he started leaning he ended up sliding down to sit against it. He still couldn't think about anything clearly but when she strode past him he realised that he hadn't followed her the first time so he kind of needed to now. It seemed to take him hours to stand up and move through the party and he saw Wes looking worried but he refused to let himself be stopped.

And then he went back. Which made the whole this seem pointless, but he knew that she was right. Or at least she might be. And there was no chance of convincing her about how he felt if he wasn't sure yet. So he went back into the house. Wes stopped him on the way to his room, but David cut him off, saying "You said you'd let me make the decision," and the other boy backed off.

* * *

Thinking about it didn't make it any easier. He pulled out his phone to text her roughly three times a day for the next week. Wes wasn't helpful – he just looked sympathetic and a little bit smug. Blaine was also sympathetic, but he was also still following Kurt everywhere the younger boy went like an extremely love-struck puppy. It was a relief when David could finally go home at the end of the weekend. Until someone showed up at his door at one in the afternoon on Saturday, asking for a Warbler. It was the blonde dancer, the one Rachel claimed had a relationship with Santana. He had to restrain himself from groaning when he saw her.

"If you're hear to talk to me about Santana's sex life I really don't care." Which is followed by a weird realisation that he actually doesn't anymore.

"No. I just wanted to ask you what you did. I mean, I've been dating Artie, so I haven't been around as much, but Santana's been acting weird. Was it your feathers?" Which completely stumped him.

"Feathers?" She nodded, either seriously or with complete deadpan genius.

"Yeah. I mean she was smiling a lot more than usual. But then she stopped and she isn't even mean anymore. It's weird. Yesterday Finn kept tripping over on the ball change in practice, and she didn't call him a freak-show or anything." David blinked slowly, completely at a loss. "So do you know why she's been acting weird or not?"

"Not really."

"Ok. It's alright if you don't want to show me your feathers, by the way. I should only be looking at Artie so I don't need to see them." And with that she turned and walked gracefully down the driveway, to where a truck David recognised as Puck's was sitting.

He called Wes. Which probably wasn't the best idea in terms of an unbiased opinion, but he was who David was used to talking to.

"Do you really think it's the best idea to date someone when you can't deal with their past?" Wes apparently was trying to stay uninvolved by pretending it was hypothetical.

"But I can work on that. Isn't the point of a relationship finding someone who is worth working on your issues for? And that's what I realised. I _don't_ care. I want to get to know her myself."

"You're calling it a relationship?"

"I'm not saying I want to marry her, Wes, stop sounding so shocked. I _like_ her, and I think I want to see it through. Because even if one of us will fuck it up one day, it might be worth it."

"… I said I'd let you make your own decision, and I will." David had never been more appreciative of Wes' ability to stick to his guns. Which is how he ended up driving to Lima during his free Monday afternoon, with a large bunch of flowers, that was has hoping wouldn't wilt on the drive, sitting on his passenger seat. Because he needed to tell Santana that all that mattered between them was what happened between them, and that she was beautiful, and worth it, and that he wasn't going to give up something amazing for something appropriate.

And even if his speech didn't end up quite as articulate or romantic as he wanted it to, and her reaction isn't quite a cliché as he'd hoped it would be, the smile that hung off her lips before she'd turned away made him feel like nothing could worry him again.

That feeling ended about half an hour later when he was on the road back to Westerville, when he realised that he still needed to convince Santana to give him another chance, and every moment she was thinking about it and he wasn't doing something could convince her not too. But then, excessive pushing could do the same thing. Because it had to be her choice. So, despite the fact that he really wanted to drive to Lima every afternoon, he restrained himself, sending flowers every day instead. After a week he started making a probably excessive and elaborate plan that involved Kurt and several of the Warbler's Warblers, but he was interrupted by the name 'Santana' flashing across the screen of his phone, and the message ' _I think the gates to your school cost more than my house_.' He ran to the driveway, down the driveway, to the car on which she was stretched out. She gave him that half smile like they were sharing a secret, and started talking about dates, and all he can think is that he doesn't care where they go as long as she's there.


End file.
